WAT
by Daisywcck
Summary: What happens when Harry discovers a power he never knew he had...with the help of a book? What will happen if anyone finds out his secret? ON HIATUS.
1. Introduction

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, nor am I earning any galleons, sickles, or knuts from posting this story. 

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W.A.T. 

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"Funny…the amount of damage a book can do." -CoS, Tom Riddle

Hermione is a bookworm. To everyone who graduated in the same Hogwarts class as she, it is common knowledge. Harry Potter is by no means a book-loving, knowledge-absorbing creature like his best friend Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley may have read one or two to please the girl, but Harry certainly hadn't. Quidditch books, yes, but other books, certainly not. The two men, having spent fifteen years of their lives with Hermione, understood that that was the way she was, and the way she always would be. 

"Hermiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiione!" Harry called, shutting the door to their home in Godric's Hollow.

"In here!" He heard Hermione shout from the kitchen. Harry loosened the knot on his Quidditch robes as he made his way to her location. 

"What are you doing?" He said, coughing, and waving smoke from his path with his arms.

"Um, I was planning on cooking, but this piece of tin had other plans." She said irritably, kicking the stove.

"Hermione, you're a witch. Why do you insist on living like a muggle if you can simply cook a decent, EDIBLE meal with the use of your wand?"

"Well, I just thought it might be nice to actually cook something for us without the help of magic…you know…since Ron IS coming home tonight."

"Well, you've done a lovely job." Harry teased. Hermione gave him a playful shove.

"Get out, and take a shower, you! You smell awful!" 

"Hermiiione! I never got a hug!" Harry draped his arms over her shoulders and leaned heavily on her.

"Ew, Harry, that's repulsive! Shower!" She pointed upstairs. "Now."

Harry grinned as he made his way upstairs. When he was at the top of the stairs, he leaned over them and laughed, causing Hermione to look up from her cleaning duties.

"Ron sent me an owl."

"Of course he did. He's coming home today, you skrewt!"

"Nope." Harry grinned. "He sent me another one. He'll be here around seven, he wrote."

Harry looked at his watch. "Which is in…twenty minutes." Harry said quickly, then ran to his room and slammed the door. He heard Hermione scream in surprise and laughed to himself. 

When he came downstairs after showering and dressing, he was greeted by two smiling faces. Ron, his best friend of fifteen years, got up from the couch and gave Harry a hug, patting his back. 

"Harry, you've got to see what Hermione has cooked for us! You won't believe it. It's bloody amazing!" Hermione smiled toothily at Harry and let out a small giggle.

"I bet it is." Harry replied, stifling a laugh. 

"Well? Let's eat, then!" Ron said, clapping his hands together.

After they ate, caught Ron up on the happenings in Hermione's life, Harry's Quidditch matches, and listened to tales of the dragons Ron had helped Charlie train in Romania, the threesome was ready for bed.

"It's going to be great to be back in my own bed after two months." 

"I bet." Hermione said, yawning.

"Looks like _someone_'_s _up past her bedtime." Ron teased. Hermione had always been the first to retire to her bedroom nightly. Harry nodded. 

"Well, I'm exhausted. I've been studying quite often lately."

"Studying _who_, exactly?" Ron pressed, gyrating his hips in an offensive way. 

Hermione gasped. "Ron!"

"Well, who?"

"That's none of your business. And no one." Hermione scoffed.

"Aw, that's too bad, 'Mione." Ron turned to Harry and wiggled his eyebrows, mouthing, "I did." 

Harry chuckled. "I'm turning in." He said, opening his door. Hedwig was hooting softly in her sleep, with her head under her wing. "So much for sending a letter to Sirius." When Harry had turned back around, Hermione had slipped into her room across the hall. She shouted through the door for the both of them to remember that she needed to speak with Percy Weasley, the Head of the Department of International Cooperation. Ron looked puzzled, but Harry nodded.

"What's that about?"

"Something about an interview. It seems that there is an opening for a secretarial position that 'Mione's interested in."

"Maybe Percy is finally interested in the female sex after all. A secretary, huh?"

"She says it's a sure fire way into the Ministry of Magic."

"A sure fire way into the pants of the Ministry of Magic." Ron mumbled.

"Ron. You know Hermione as well as I do. She's not like that. She hasn't been with anyone since-"

"Since when, Harry?"

"Well, since you. You knew that."

Ron looked at a loss. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm going to bed."

Ron nodded.

"And don't even think about going in there." Harry added firmly, pointing at her door. 

"Wouldn't dream of it." Ron said sheepishly.

"Ron?" Harry asked after an awkward moment. "Welcome home. We missed you."

"Thanks, mate. See you in the morning."

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Harry woke the next morning with the sun shining brightly in his eyes. 

"Merlinnn…" He rolled out of bed, and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his glasses off of the bedside table and righted his blurry room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a note pinned to his door.

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Don't forget that we're going to the Ministry tomorrow to see Percy. 

'She must have stuck that in here last night after I fell asleep' He thought to himself.

His stomach rumbled.

'Time for breakfast.'

He opened his door and saw Hermione's light on through the slightly ajar door.

'Always an early riser.' He thought. But she wasn't in there. He shrugged.

'Must be downstairs getting breakfast too.' He smiled at the idea of Hermione burning another meal. He heard her laugh, but it wasn't coming from downstairs, it was coming from down the hall in the opposite direction. From Ron's room.

Harry opened the door and found them both entangled in Ron's sheets. Hermione was kissing Ron's neck and the both of them had clearly had a good time the night before.

Harry cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Uh…hi, Harry." Hermione said, pulling the sheet tightly around her nude body.

"I'll be downstairs making breakfast. I'll see you both there in ten minutes." With that, he left. He could hear Hermione say with concern, "Is he angry?" and Ron respond, "Nah."

He shook his head.

After a very awkward breakfast, when Harry was getting ready to escort Hermione to the Ministry, he finally said his peace.

"Just don't let me HEAR you shagging, alright? You're still my mates."

The trio laughed heartily. 

Hermione was the first to speak after that. 

"Harry, just because we shag doesn't mean that we're anything more than friends. Merlin, I'd kill him." She said, gesturing to Ron.

"Just don't tell Mum."

"Thanks for the idea, mate. Great blackmail idea, that is."

"HARRY!" Hermione screeched.

Harry just laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's go then?" 

=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=`=

"Good luck, 'Mione." Harry said before she went into the office for her interview.

After a few minutes waiting, Harry got bored. Deciding that the ceiling above was no longer interesting, nor was the action of twiddling his thumbs entertaining, he decided to pick up a magazine to read. He leaned over to search through the pile of magazines on a nearby table. Witch Weekly. Witch Weekly. Wizard Parenting. Witch Weekly. Harry sighed. He looked at the bottom shelf of the table. Several 'How-To' guides were piled neatly on the shelf. He picked up the top one on the pile. 

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The Wand-like Weapons of the Muggle World: Guns (How They Work) by Herrick Weise and Scanlon Pestilli

He looked at his watch. Hermione wouldn't be out of her interview for a while. He sighed again and opened the book to the first page and began to read.

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A/N: Send me a review and let me know what you think about the beginning of this story. If it sucks, let me know and I'll discontinue it. If it's not half-bad, I'll continue it. Maybe I'll let y'all know what W.A.T. stands for or what the heck it is? Maybe you'll find out why Harry reads this particular book? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize, nor am I earning any galleons, sickles, or knuts from posting this story. 

**W.A.T.**

_"Funny…the amount of damage a book can do." -CoS, Tom Riddle_

"_Carry Guns" are very popular in the Muggle world. The Glock 17, Beretta 92 and SIG 220 are not weapon wands for daily use. These guns require a written document called a permit for use. The majority of Muggles that wish to use weaponry would rather carry something lighter and less bulky, as they cannot perform shrinking charms for proper travel. Polymer and aluminum (see pg. 34 for more information on Muggle materials) are added in certain places to eliminate unwanted weight. The 1911, the most popular kind of carry gun used by Muggles, is chambered for a ".45 ACP", has a full length guide rod for aiming, and a very light weight when empty…_

            Harry put down the book after completing the first chapter. What the hell was going on in there? The two of them must be talking about books…Hermione's one true love! It still surprised him that she had turned down several different teaching positions at Hogwarts. It didn't surprise him that she received the Muggle equivalent of a Bachelor's Degree and a Master's Degree in her favorite subject, Arithmancy.

            Harry's stomach growled loudly. A witch across the room looked up from her magazine and stared. Harry refrained from sighing loudly. The woman had red hair, like Ginny. His fiancée was beautiful in every way imaginable. He could not wait to see her this evening. The entire Weasley clan was arriving tonight to celebrate Ron and Charlie's return home from Romania, as well as Harry and Ginny's recent engagement. Harry remembered the way Ron acted when he found out that he and Ginny had been shagging. The sound of the shattering vase as it hit the wall rang in Harry's ears. Ron's face was bright red and his skin was completely taut. Harry was terrified that night, while Ginny was laughing, still wrapped up in the towel, legs damp from their shower a few minutes earlier. 

When Ron had finally calmed down, he said, "Just don't let me HEAR you shagging, alright?" It was amusing to see Ron overreact so much, but still be promiscuous himself. Romanian women flocked to Ron like flies to sugar. Although he gave himself away to all those ready and willing, his heart still belonged to Hermione. Who, at the moment, was still being interviewed by Percy. Harry yawned and opened the book again.

Just as he was finishing the last sentence of the last page of the last chapter in the book, Hermione came into view.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, but that was the most intense interview I have ever gone through." Harry raised an eyebrow. The two walked outside in silence and DisApparated a moment later.

"I was being interviewed, Harry!" Hermione shrieked. "Ugh. I was being QUESTIONED. I was given an aptitude test, for Merlin's sake! It seems-" she sighed, "that they are not sure what my talents would be best used for. Although Wexler says that they need a brain like mine for detective work."

"Wexler?"

"Albert Wexler. He would be my superior. He's the head of the Department of Criminal and Terroristic Investigation-" Seeing the look of confusion on Harry's face, she continued, "A branch of the Department of Mysteries." Harry grew quiet. The Department of Mysteries always reminded him, and everyone, of Sirius, and his death.

"So, you'd be an Unspeakable?" Harry questioned.

"Not..exactly. There are so many branches of the Department of Mysteries that we aren't aware of because of the secrecy that is involved." Harry laughed.

"So you're going to be a Speakable?"

"At this point, I have no clue of who I am or what's going to happen."

"Ginny, love, congratulations. Harry dear, welcome to our family, officially." Molly Weasley gushed, as she escorted the couple out of the house.

"Molly, let them go! They've been trying to leave for twenty minutes." Arthur Weasley was directing his wife back inside their house. "DisApparate safely, you two. Owl me when you get home?"

"Daaad! I'm twenty three years old!"

"Right."

"Love you, Dad. Night, Mum!" Ginny called, waving back to the house.

Harry held Ginny's hand as they walked down the path to the front gate of the Burrow. Harry pulled Ginny into an embrace before they DisApparated.

"I cannot wait until you're Mrs. Harry Potter, and I can make love to you all day, every day and we can-"

"Who says that we can't do that right now?" Ginny quipped, giggling.

"Right. Your place or mine?" Harry whispered as Ginny rubbed him against him softly.

"Yours." She whispered.

With a crack, they were gone.

"I've owled just about everyone, Harry."

"Right," said Harry tensely.

"Harry, you're an unbelievable Seeker. You will amaze everyone. Again." Hermione spoke in a soft, maternal voice.

"It's only my second game, 'Mione."

"It's your millionth game total though." She reassured him.

She was right. The next day he would be playing his favorite sport, Quidditch with a professional team. He was thrilled to have been picked for the one of the Professional Quidditch League teams, Puddlemere United. His coach, Coach Kneeket, was almost as encouraging as his old Hogwarts Professor, Professor Snape. His coach always called Harry "flobberworm", and criticized his every move. In practice, he never once compliment a single catch, dive, or diversion of Harry's. Of course, he couldn't compliment his skills during a match because he had never been allowed to play. He sat out every game for four months, on the side of the pitch, next to the other alternates and the mediwizards. When the Seeker was injured last week, attempting to do the obsolete Wronskei Defensive Feint, once a classic Seeker diversion, originating from the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum, Harry was sent in by Coach Kneeket out of sheer desperation. Harry had caught the glimmering Snitch two minutes later, saving the day, and managing to break a few records along the way.

Life was great. He was getting married to Virginia Weasley, the love of his life, he was playing for an unbelievable Quidditch team, and all of his friends and family would be there to see it all happen. 

Except Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I cannot get out of this meeting with Albert Wexler. The final steps in determining my career plans are being taken in this meeting." He could hear the obvious disappointment in her voice as she spoke. 

"It's alright, 'Mione. I'm happy for you. It's all coming together. For the both of us." Harry grinned.

"Good luck, tomorrow, Harry."

"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry sighed, "I'll need it."

Please Review! I know it's been FOREVER since I've updated anything, but I'm getting back on track and I'd love to hear from you & know what you'd like to see happen with this story… Any guesses as to what's gonna happen? Send em in a review. ;) -Daisy


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize, nor am I earning any galleons, sickles, or knuts from posting this story. 

**W.A.T.**

_"Funny…the amount of damage a book can do." -CoS, Tom Riddle_

Harry spotted the glimmering snitch past the Arrows' left goalpost. He soared in that direction, dodging a bludger and a Beater three time his size. He reached the middle post, and there it was, dancing in circles around the post. 'This is too easy,' Harry thought. He reached his arm out and wrapped his fingers around the golden ball. He could feel the Snitch struggling to free itself from his grip as he turned to see the Arrows' Keeper  and Seeker cursing in anger. The game was over. Puddlemere United had beaten the Appleby Arrows. Lee Jordan, the commentator, was cheering ceremoniously from the Top Box. He could see all of the Weasleys, including Ginny and Ron, cheering. Remus Lupin, with a blonde Tonks on his arm, had even come to see him. It was beautiful. Coach Kneeket, the wizard who gave Harry the spot on the team as an alternate player on the Puddlemere United team after seeing him play at the University, came up to Harry as soon as he was on the ground.

            "You've done it again, Flobberworm." He said, smacking him harshly on the back of the head.

            "Now go get changed. Rumor has it that Harry Potter has a fiancée that he needs to pay _some _attention to. And don't forget, hero, that we have practice at seven A.M. tomorrow morning. Flobberworm." Harry shook his head at the derogatory term. Even his nasty coach couldn't get him down. He was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, he was on a Quidditch team that was headed for the Cup, and all of his friends (except Hermione, of course) had seen his big match. 

Most of the team was still on the pitch when Harry reached the team's changing quarters. He had hurriedly left the pitch to change out of his sweaty, navy blue robes so that he could see his loved ones. He was just about remove the sticky sweaty mess when he heard the loudest sound he had ever heard in his life. The entire room shook. A few benches fell over and he stumbled a bit, losing his balance. Half a moment later, he was blinded by darkness and pain in the back of his head. The room was pitch black, save for popping, white lights in front of his eyes every few seconds. Faint screams could be heard in the background, but they were difficult to hear due to the whooshing sounds in his head, resembling a high-powered industrial fan, every few seconds. His legs carried him unwillingly back onto the field. He stopped at the edge of the pitch, trying to reconstruct what had happened. But he could not. He could not think. He could barely see. Other than the twinkling stars in front of his eyes every few moments, he saw a flickering orange all around him, with faint traces of red. It was so pretty…but what was it. He could not hear anything but the whooshing sound and it was causing him to become dizzy. He felt lightheaded and woozy as he swayed from side to side, as he absentmindedly held the back of his head. He felt his legs grow weak as he continued walking through the scattered orange and red, dodging bits of..things…falling from the sky. He bumped into a tall, hurried-looking man who was carrying a large bundle the size of a person, and Harry stumbled a bit. The man did not seem to notice. He tripped again over a metal object, cutting his leg in the process. Harry continued walking, not really knowing where he was going, but just listening to the whooshing sound, it becoming more and more like a lullaby, enticing him into sleep. His eyes grew heavy as he saw the grass outside of the stadium. 'Where is everyone?' Harry thought, continuing to hold his now sticky head. He felt his legs give way and he crumpled to the ground, resting on the green grass.

Harry was woken abruptly by the feel of something cold on his face and something pushing him forward into a sitting position. A deep, male voice from behind him echoed in his ear.

"Son? Son…Can you talk?" Harry opened his eyes to see a blurry blonde witch in front of him, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. He turned slightly, and felt a tremendous pain in the back of his head. His hand was prevented from touching the wound, as it was bandaged quite thoroughly with medi-tape. Harry looked curiously at the man behind him as he finished pulling himself into a sitting position. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His throat was dry and scratchy. He cleared it a moment later and spoke.

"Who are you? What happened? Where's Ginny?" The man spoke again.

"I'm a healer. You've been hurt pretty badly, son. But not as bad as some of the others." The man was silent for a moment.

"Others?" Harry asked softly. The woman was wiping his forehead, stained with dried blood, clean.

"Harry Potter!" The woman spoke with a shocked voice. 

Several heads turned away from Ministry officials to look at Harry. Before he knew it, he was being bombarded with questions and flashes of light from cameras were blinding him.

            "Harry Potter! How did you survive this tragic incident?!"

            "How does it feel that seconds have you won your first match to have been overshadowed by something like this?"

            "Did you know any of the victims?"

            "How do you feel knowing that some of the people who were killed here tonight were here to see you?"

Harry's mind and vision were a blur. 'Killed? Tragic incident? Victims?' He found himself getting up, and running back to the stadium.

Harry gasped as stood in the middle of what was once a fine pitch. The entire structure was charred and falling apart. He walked to the middle of the field and walked in a circle, looking up at the stadium. The seats were charred. Every last one of them had been destroyed and were unrecognizable. The explosion looked like it had originated in the Top Box. Debris was everywhere. Pieces of Quidditch uniforms were everywhere, as were burnt up advertisements that had been hung on the walls separating the field from the viewer boxes. A demolished wand here, a few charred pieces wood there…the entire place had been destroyed along with almost everyone with it. That thought struck him again. _Almost everyone with it._The players, his coach, the commentator, his friends. His friends! The section where they had been seated was completely missing and replaced with black. To the left of the section was the Top Box.

Harry felt himself slump into a heap in the middle of the pitch, not caring that a corner of a piece of wood was jabbing him in the back, only caring that he was alone once again. That his friends and family were gone. The thought hit him like a brick. Ginny. Ron. Molly and Arthur. Fred and George. Charlie. Bill. Remus and Tonks. He felt himself trembling. Ginny. The love of his life. He would never see her again. He would never see any one of them again. He could not tell that his nails were digging into his arms drawing blood, or that he was biting his lip so hard that it was beginning to bleed as well. He only knew that a part of him was gone forever. The whooshing sound returned as soon as his head hit the grassy floor of the pitch. And then it was silent and black again.


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